Saved by a Bear (Legends of Black Salmon Falls Book 2)

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Saved by a Bear (Legends of Black Salmon Falls Book 2) Page 2

by Lauren Lively


  I laughed. “I doubt any of the others would really give a damn,” I said.

  He shrugged. “There's a few problem children in the Clan,” he said. “A few who want to be named Chief over me.”

  “Yeah, well they can all get screwed,” I said. “And they'd never be able to make a case like that given the traditions of our people.”

  “Yeah, probably.”

  We stood side by side, looking off into the distance together. And as we did, I wondered if when my own father decided to take the Walk if I'd be there in the woods alongside Asher, trying to catch a glimpse of my dad. We were close. Very close. And I drew a lot of inspiration as well as strength from my dad. I couldn't picture my life without him, without having his guidance and counsel on any number of things.

  But as I stood there, breathing in the morning air, searching the woods around us for the smallest glimpse of Asher's dad, I knew that one day I'd be in the same position. One day, my father would take the Walk – and I'd be alone. At least, physically.

  I believed everything I'd told Asher about our loved ones being all around us. Being a part of the nature we existed in and being connected to it. I knew that when my dad took the Walk, he'd become a part of that collective energy. I knew I'd still be able to feel him around me and believed that he'd be able to hear me when I spoke to him. I might be losing him in the physical sense one day, but I'd never lose him completely.

  And that brought me a measure of comfort and peace.

  “Anyway,” Asher said, clearing his throat. “How was New Orleans?”

  I nodded. “A lot of fun. Food's great down there,” I said.

  “And the Clans?”

  I chuckled softly. “Different,” I said. “Very different.”

  “Did you make any progress getting them on board with the alliance down there?”

  I shrugged. “Hard to tell at this point,” I said. “But I think I made a few solid connections. I'll be talking to them again, so I'll know more soon.”

  He nodded. “I'd hoped they'd be on board with building a nationwide alliance.”

  I shrugged. “And they may be,” I said. “But they tend to take things a little slower down there. They most certainly don't seem to have a sense of urgency about a lot of things. Except about fighting with one another. Those New Orleans clans seem to really enjoy fighting and constantly being at one another's throats.”

  “Yeah, I'd heard that,” he said with a wry chuckle.

  “Still, no reason to not be optimistic though,” I said. “If we can get them to stop killing each other, we might just be able to hammer out a solid alliance.”

  One of Asher's biggest undertakings since becoming Chief of the Q'lapa Clan was trying to establish a nationwide alliance. He believed that somebody out there was looking to destroy the Clans across the country – an enemy common to every bear. And he thought that by having an alliance with clans across the country, we could share information, set up common defenses – and basically have each other's backs if things started to go sideways for our kind.

  Asher came to believe we had a common enemy because of the mysterious human presence in Black Salmon Falls – the one who'd tried to ignite a war between the Q'lapa and the N'gasso. They were nameless and faceless, but the assault at the N'gasso compound proved that they existed.

  Of course, opinions on who they were varied. Some thought they were just humans who didn't like our kind, banding together to wipe us out. Others thought they were put into action by Sheriff Dean Richards – a man who knew we existed and despised us with every fiber of his being.

  And a very small few – Asher among them – believed that the mysterious men in black who'd raided the N'gasso compound were from some shadowy government organization intent on eradicating our kind.

  By setting up an information sharing and defense network among clans across the country, Asher thought that he could better protect not just our Clans in the Pacific Northwest, but our species across the entire country.

  It was an ambitious, but very noble undertaking. And something, that if he pulled it off, would likely pay big dividends to bearkind across the nation. If he pulled it off. Based on what I saw in New Orleans, I had doubts that some of the clans could play well enough together to be part of an alliance.

  Personally, I wasn't sure where I came out on the debate. I didn't know who it was out there hunting us. If there really was anybody out there trying to drive us to extinction. Yeah, there were people like Sheriff Richards who hated us for what we were – but enough to hire an execution squad?

  Maybe I was being naive, but it seemed a bridge too far for me.

  “Well, we'll have to come up with another strategy to bring to the table to deal with some of the other clans,” Asher said, his expression turning serious and more than a little concerned. “We'll come back to it, but the alliance is something that needs to go on the back burner for now.”

  I cocked my head and looked at him, questions in my eyes. Establishing the alliance was all he'd talked about since taking the Q'lapa throne. It seemed to be his number one priority – his only priority, really. So, what had happened while I was away that had knocked it off the front page?

  “What's going on?” I asked.

  He sighed. “Something bad,” he replied, his tone grim. “Something we need to deal with.”

  “What is it?”

  “Come on,” he said. “Let's go get some breakfast and talk about it.”

  Chapter Two

  Olivia

  I closed the door behind me and carried the tray down the stairs of the basement. The light was dim and the wooden stairs creaked beneath my feet. Reaching the floor of the basement, I reached out and flipped on the overhead lights – not that they did a lot of good to dispel the gloom that seemed persistent down there.

  I came around the corner, my boots scuffing on the concrete, and paused. Three cages stood on the far wall before me. They were custom built cages, designed for one thing and one thing alone – holding bears. The bars were reinforced silver and were covered in an electrified wire mesh.

  And if the bars and electrified mesh didn't prove to be adequate, we had protocols to make sure that our prizes didn't get out of their cages. If they needed to be subdued, our – guests – were dosed with the same tranquilizer we'd used to take down our target the night before. We needed to make sure they were sedated and docile when we made the transfer.

  Only one of the cages was currently occupied – the man we'd taken down last night. He stood against the far wall of the cage, naked, except for the silver collar around his neck, staring at me with the most intensely hateful expression I'd ever seen on another person. I had no doubt that if I opened that door, the man in the cage would tear my head from my body – quite literally. With the strength of an actual bear, it probably wouldn't be much of a challenge for him.

  “I brought you food,” I said, showing him the tray.

  “You can shove that tray straight up your ass.”

  “Well, aren't you a charmer,” I said.

  “Let me out of here and I'll show you how charming I can be, darlin'.”

  I stepped forward and opened the slot at the bottom of the cage, pushing the tray of food through. I pulled a bottle of cold water out of my bag and passed it through the slot, rolling it toward the man. Closing and locking the slot again, I stood up and took a step back, trying to avert my eyes. If he was feeling at all self-conscious about being naked in front of me, he didn't give any indication. Maybe his kind was just used to it.

  In truth, I was still trying to get used to the idea that “his kind” actually existed. The world of werebears – or shifters, as they were apparently known more commonly – was something that was as new as it was unbelievable to me. I lived my life – all twenty-eight years of it – in a state of ignorance to creatures like this. I'd grown up on the stories about werewolves and vampires, never believing they were anything more than fiction. Scary stories that made for good books or
good movies.

  But oh, how I was wrong.

  Having been a Marine for six years – and having served in some forward combat areas – I'd seen some shit. I'd seen things that would stay with me my entire life. But none of the horrors I saw overseas could have ever come close to preparing me for what I'd seen in the six months I'd been immersed in this new world filled with creatures that stepped right out of the pages of a horror book. To say that my eyes had been opened to a whole new, entirely strange world would have been the understatement of the damn century.

  “You're not like the others,” he said, making me look up at him. “I can tell.”

  “You don't know me.”

  He shrugged. “just before I went out, you were telling me that you were sorry. Sorry for what?”

  I shook my head. “Doesn't matter.”

  “It does to me.”

  I leaned against the concrete wall behind me and crossed my arms over my chest. I looked at the man, sized him up. I could tell that he was a hard man. A man who'd done terrible things in his life. It was something you could see in the eyes. The eyes were always a dead giveaway. Whoever it was that said the eyes were the windows to the soul was a damn prophet.

  I was part of a group doing terrible things – but I didn't think I was a terrible person. I wasn't a hard person like he was. Yeah, I'd killed some people. But that had been in a time of war. I was home now and things were different. I wasn't that person anymore.

  And the reasons I was part of this group and doing the things I was doing – were complicated.

  “Have you been a – shifter – your entire life?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “No, I got turned when I was just out of high school,” he said. “Best thing that coulda ever happened to me.”

  “So, you've been this way for a while?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. Why?”

  “I just – have you ever known a girl named Emily?” I asked. “She's about twenty-two --”

  A smile spread across his face. “Yeah, I think I screwed her the other night,” he said, his expression predatory. “And then I killed her. She a friend of yours or something?”

  My stomach dropped when he said he'd killed her. But when I looked into his eyes, I knew he was lying. He was screwing with me.

  “You're a liar,” I said.

  He shrugged, that grin playing upon his lips. “Maybe,” he said. “But maybe not. Tell you what, you let me out of here and I'll tell you what I know about the girl.”

  “I don't think you know anything.”

  “Of course, I do,” he said. “The shifter community here in the Pacific Northwest isn't very large. We all know what's going on with the other clans.”

  “She wasn't a shifter,” I said, my tone colder than ice. “She was just a normal girl.”

  He laughed, a low, grating sound. “If you're hooked up with these guys,” he said. “And hunting down people like me – what is it, six of us now? -- then your girl has to be one of us. So, who is she to you?”

  “Shut up,” I said. “You don't know shit.”

  He laughed again and shook his head. “I know more than you think, sweetheart.”

  I glared at him. “Call me sweetheart one more time and I'll gut you myself.”

  He raised his hands and chuckled. “Fine, fine,” he said. “Doesn't change the fact that I have information about this girl – this Emily.”

  I stepped closer to the bars of the cage and stared in at him. “Yeah? Prove it,” I said. “What does she look like?”

  “I don't have to prove nothin' to you, lady,” he sneered.

  “If you want me to let you out of the cage, you sure as hell do.”

  “You're not gonna let me out anyway,” he said.

  “I'd consider it if you have some information about Emily.”

  His laugh was sharp and brittle. “Right.”

  I looked at him evenly and then shook my head. “That's what I thought,” I said. “Like I said, you don't know shit.”

  The man walked over, standing just on the other side of the bars from me. Towering over me by six inches and outweighing me by a good hundred pounds, he was an imposing figure. His gaze was direct and penetrating. And even though I knew, with all of the security safeguards we had, he couldn't get out and get at me, I took a step back, feeling a nervous flutter in my stomach. My hand drifted to the sidearm in the holster on my hip almost as a reflex.

  The man chuckled low in his throat, an expression of amusement on his face. But then the laughter faded away and his face became grim.

  “What happens to me next?” he asked.

  I shrugged. “I don't know,” I said. “I'm only part of the capture team. I don't go to the meet ups. All I know is that when the rest of the team goes to meet, they come back without the shifter we'd captured.”

  He nodded and I saw the first flickers of fear upon his face as he absorbed and processed what I'd just told him. I knew they were selling the shifters to another party – a party that had equipped and outfitted us with some pretty high-tech gear. We were simply the capture team who took the risk of bringing one of these shifters down. I didn't know who that third party was. Not yet, at least.

  Although I'd been with them for six months now, I was still trying to earn the trust of the group's leader – Neil McCoy. The group – eight of us in all – were all ex-military. A couple of the guys had been SEAL's or Marine Force Recon. And because of my own service – and the fact that I'd known one of the guys with the team from my time in Afghanistan already – I'd had my in. McCoy had given me a shot and all I had to do was play good soldier until I found out what happened to Emily.

  And after that, I was going to put as much distance between me and these psychos as humanly possible – hopefully, with Emily by my side. They were violent – often, for no reason alone. They enjoyed hurting people. Got off on it. I knew that these were bad, bad people. And eventually, I was going to bring them to justice.

  But not until I got my little sister safely away from them.

  The radio on my vest crackled to life. “Liv,” came Dalton's voice over the line. “Neil's looking for you. Get to his office on the double.”

  I pushed the button on the radio. “Roger that,” I said. “En route.”

  I turned and headed for the stairs, but could feel the shifter's eyes on me. He was caught somewhere between angry and terrified – and I couldn't help but feel for him. He wasn't my responsibility and I had a bigger purpose for doing what I was doing, but I was still a human being. I still had empathy for others – even if those others were something straight out of a nightmare or horror movie.

  On some level though, I recognized that the man standing in the cage was a human – at least, partly. And no, I couldn't just shut my feelings off. Though, given what I was doing – and why – I had no choice but to control them. To lock them away and resist any urge to give in to them. It was necessary and vital – and my very life depended upon it.

  At the bottom of the stairs, with my hand on the railing, I paused.

  “I said I was sorry,” I said without so much a looking at him. “Because you don't deserve what's happening to you. Nobody deserves that.”

  Without saying another word, I ascended the stairs and stepped out into the sunlight of the day.

  Chapter Three

  “You wanted to see me, sir,” I said, standing at attention before the desk in Neil's office.

  He looked up from his computer, his glasses perched on the end of his nose and nodded.

  “Have a seat,” he said.

  I took the chair across from his desk and sat down. Neil was in his early fifties and was a man still in terrific shape. He had salt and pepper colored hair, eyes darker than midnight, and an air of command about him. He'd been an officer in his Corps and had been in charge of many men. He was used to being in command and having his orders carried out – that much was clear just from his demeanor. I'd picked up on it five minutes after meeting him.

>   “I must admit,” he started. “When you first came on board, I was skeptical. Wary of you.”

  “My service record is impeccable, sir,” I said. “What was there to be skeptical about?”

  He gave me a small smile. “It's not your service,” he said. “By all accounts – and believe me, I did ask around – you were a solid Marine. Tested. Tough. Loyal.”

  I cocked my head and looked at him. “So, why the skepticism then?”

  He leaned back in his chair and gave me a level look. “Honestly, I didn't know if I could trust you.”

  I nodded. “Cisco vouched for me.”

  “He did,” McCoy said. “But even Cisco admitted that he didn't know you all that well.”

  That much was true. Cisco and I had been in the same platoon for all of about a month back in Afghanistan. We'd never really shared details of our lives or got to know each other all that well, but we'd had each other's backs on more than one mission. We'd been through the fire of battle together and that had given us a bit of a bond – a bond that I'd been able to exploit to get myself on McCoy's crew.

  “I hope that my performance in the field has alleviated those concerns, sir,” I said.

  He nodded. “I must admit, you've been quite impressive out there, Olivia,” he said. “You've exceeded my expectations.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  He leaned forward and clasped his hands on his desktop, staring straight into my eyes. McCoy said nothing for a long moment, he simply sat there and scrutinized me. Finally, he leaned back in his seat again and looked slightly less tense.

  “Tell me something,” he said. “Why did you join my crew in the first place?”

  “When I rotated home,” I said, repeating the now-familiar lie I'd constructed, “I really didn't have a lot of options. Nothing really in the works. I don't have much in the way of education or skills, and honestly, after seeing and doing everything I did over in the shit, sitting in a cubicle for nine hours a day sounded like a recipe for a slow death. It was definitely not the life I wanted. I was afraid that if I'd forced myself to live and accept it, that I'd probably eat my gun within six months.”

 

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